


Fascination

by sweethoneypetal



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Coming of Age, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Forbidden Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweethoneypetal/pseuds/sweethoneypetal
Summary: Takashima Kouyou is tired of living in his father's shadow, of following his father's life plan for him. Still, partially out of habit, he obeys and stays quiet. That is until he meets Yuu, his father's latest lover, then he begins rebelling and falling, falling in love with Yuu.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listened to Cold by Rich Brian while writing this.

I wasn't surprised to come home and see that my father wasn't home. This was nothing new, it was routine in fact. I had the house to myself on most days and I usually spent it by studying or playing video games with friends. Sometimes, the housekeeper was still there when he got home, and other times, she had left hours prior. She had a family to go home to, after all. 

What did surprise me, however, was once I sat at the breakfast bar to eat the snack and tea she had made me and after I answered her usual question of how my school day had been, as was our routine, she told me that the driver would be over in an hour to pick me up. 

"Mr. Takashima wants to take you out for dinner. He also asks that you wear something nice." She said, taking my empty plate of biscuits and washing it in the sink, her movements quick and precise.

I gave her a look of disbelief, sipping my milk tea. "And is it just the two of us going for dinner?"

She looked back at me knowingly, but without saying it. "I think Mr. Takashima mentioned something about a guest."

I snorted. "I wonder what kind of guest." 

She said nothing, but we both knew. With my father, there were only two kinds of guests. The business or pleasure kind. 

"I'll be in my room. I've got some homework to do." I said, leaving behind my tea. "Call me down when he gets here, then you can go home."

She nodded, going back to her work while I went upstairs to my room. I tried to focus on my study guide, but my eyes kept wandering around my room. Instead, I spent the hour with my head tilted back against my desk chair, gazing at the ceiling with my earbuds tucked in my ears, iPod on shuffle. I would have rathered having been excluded from this dinner date.

~

As promised, in an hour, the driver arrived to pick me up. The drive was quiet and I simply asked him to turn up the radio. I knelt my head on my hand, elbow on the door. I watched the slowly darkening city scroll by in the rare moments we weren't stuck in traffic. We were running late, but even so, I arrived at the upscale traditional restaurant first. At the name Takashima, the hostess led me eagerly to the best table, one on raised tatami mat that had rice paper doors that closed, giving the guests privacy. I removed my shoes at the door, before stepping in, taking the menu that was offered to me and the sparkling water, the doors closing behind her once she left. 

I sat uncomfortably on my knees. I wasn't used to this, our house and everything about it was modern and western, no shoji or seiza there. I looked at the menu, then picked at any lint on my suit. I complained about my father's demands and actions, but I still followed them. I dressed nicely when he asked, got straight A's when he asked, shut my mouth when he asked. Whatever he asked, I did. I was a well-trained puppy who hated its collar.

Finally, I could hear voices and laughter approach. One was my father, the second the hostess, but the third I couldn't place. I felt the weight of dread crushing my shoulders. I wasn't looking forward to another meeting with a smarmy business partner or the new blonde gold-digging girlfriend. 

The door slid open and I didn't see the pencil-skirted hostess or my father, instead, I saw something breathtaking. At first, I thought the person was a woman, but at closer inspection, I realized that I was wrong- he was a he and he was stunning. He had ink-black hair, snow coloured skin, and the softest, warmest smile I had ever been given. He was clutching a clasped purse to his chest, which was the same pattern as his white and purple yukata, tied with an obi in the feminine style.

I didn't know what to do. I felt dumb, just staring at him like a parched man would stare at a stream. I was stranded in the desert of his gaze. 

My father stepped forward, placing an arm around the beautiful man. "Yuu, this is my son, Kouyou. Kouyou, this is Yuu."

"It's nice to finally meet you." He bowed. "I'm sorry for the hassle, I was the one who insisted on going to a traditional place."

I bowed my head, feeling awkward. "No, it's alright."

The two sat down facing me, my father's arm lingering on him. Then the door closed, trapping me with them. Why did I feel like this? Trapped. Trapped and irritated. I wanted to shake Yuu's shoulders and shout at him, asking him what he was doing here. What was someone as beautiful as him doing with a man pushing fifty, a man who could easily be his father? I didn't ask of course, because I knew the answer.

"My son is a senior in high school and will be graduating this spring. He's one of the best in his year and his teachers say that University of Tokyo would be foolish to turn him down." My father said.

"That's very impressive." Yuu smiled. "What would you like to study in university, Kouyou?"

"He'll be majoring in business, of course. Maybe a minor in Chinese, since many of our partners are in Beijing and Shanghai." My father answered, speaking for me.

"Like father like son, hmm?" Yuu smiled. 

"Of course. I'm not going to pass on my business to some questionable employee. The Takashima name needs to remain." My father said simply.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do great in university if you keep up your studies. Your father told me you're a very bright young man." Again, Yuu showed me that soft and warm smile.

"Thank you," I said before my father could interrupt. 

They began looking over the menu, debating over maki and sashimi combinations, while I picked at my suit, looking up at Yuu once in a while. It was almost laughable how beautiful and young he was compared to my father. My father wasn't an ugly man, but his constant work had not aged him well, he looked older than fifty with his salt and pepper hair and wrinkles around his eyes, making him look like he was constantly squinting. He wasn't, he had 20/20 vision. Yuu looked more like he could be an older brother of mine, not my father's new toy. I hated it. I hated that he was here.

They ordered, and the only thing I asked for myself was coffee, but even before the food arrived, father's cell phone rang. He checked who was calling and excused himself from our table, but not before kissing Yuu's round cheek in apology. 

And then we were alone, just the two of us. 

I broke the silence. "Get used to that," I said.

He smiled. "It's alright, I know your father is a busy man. I don't mind."

I wasn't sure why, but his answer annoyed me. Maybe because I knew he was settling. "You're not his first, you know?" I said with more venom than I had originally intended. "There have been five since I was in junior high. The first one was around his age but they've ever since been getting younger and younger... don't get too comfortable."

Yuu just smiled, not the fake kind frustrated adults showed bratty children, but the kind that reached his soft eyes. "You don't need to worry, your father was very honest with me about his past. I know this is probably rather awkward for you, but I don't intend on making it harder for you. You don't have to call me 'mom' or anything like that. I'm not here to replace anyone. Calling me Yuu is just fine."

I had no idea how to react to that. I suppose I had expected his 'true nature' to reveal itself now that my father was out of earshot. "...Whatever," was my intelligent and childish response. 

Of course, I wouldn't think of him as a mother, but his kind and soft response had thrown me off-guard. My father's past lovers had simply pretended to tolerate me or had even been open with their disdain of my very existence. When I was 11, I had caught one of them complaining to friends she had invited over, drinking from our cups, sitting on our furniture. "I should have known it was too good to be true when he didn't mention anything about kids." She sighed to them. "If I had known he had such a spoiled and awful little boy, I never would have accepted that first invitation out to dinner." They had all drunkenly laughed while I listened, just in the next room. To my childish ears, they sounded like angry crows when they laughed.

But she had had a right to be angry. I was part of the package that she had signed for without reading the fine print. My father had put her blinders on with all his expensive dinners and gifts. Her face had tightened when she met me. She had been tricked into being my mom, something neither of us had wanted.

Still, Yuu smiled, and I felt almost unnerved. Why was he so nice to me? What was there to gain from that?

Luckily, father's phone call had come to an end and what I was perceiving as tension broke as he stepped into our private little room. 

"You don't have to go back to work, do you?" Yuu asked, his full lips forming a cute little pout. Oh my god.

"No, no. It's nothing they can't handle without me." Father reassured him, taking his hand.

Yuu's smile returned. "I'm glad. I wanted to enjoy this meal with the two of you."

"Of course." He smiled, kissing his hand. 

I looked away.

~

I waved my pen in front of my nose, watching the little character's arms and legs dance on their string. It wasn't my most productive study hall.

"Kouyou?" A whisper, the student in front of me turned around, small eyes peering at me through thick mascara and dark eyeshadow.

"What?" I glanced up from my current past-time. 

Takanori glanced at the teacher, a temp with earbuds in, to make sure he wasn't paying attention. I had no idea why he was even bothering to whisper. "Do you want to come over to my house later?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I had no intention of running into my father or his new lover today. 

"Why are you sulking?" He asked, still whispering, concealing the side of his mouth behind his cupped hand.

I felt my face warm and defiantly looked back at my pen. "I'm not sulking."

"Oh come off it." He snorted, then went back to whispering. "Did your dad do something again?"

I frowned. Damn, he was good. "Can we talk about this after?" I asked, not wanting anyone else to hear, especially not my desk neighbour who was obviously listening. 

Takanori smiled, sensing something juicy coming up. "Fine. We'll talk at my place."

I nodded, sighing, as I flipped open my cell phone, texting the housekeeper to let her know not to wait for me.

~

"I met my father's new lover," I said, trying to seem casual, as I flipped through Takanori's CD collection, trying to find an unspecific album.

He gawked at me, then laughed a little, laying on his stomach on his bed, sketching something in a beat up notepad. "What? Aren't you used to this sort of thing already?" He asked like it was the same as trying a new shade of lipstick or pen, nothing too exciting or unordinary.

"Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I enjoy it." I snorted, picking out a random CD and popping it into Takanori's sound system.

"I guess." Takanori shrugged. "So? What's she like? Another shrill harpy or a shy girl with daddy issues?" 

I turned the volume up, Billie Joe Armstrong's voice soothing me. It took me a while to answer since I found myself having trouble describing Yuu. Those words didn't suit him, they were too harsh... So I just shrugged. "I don't know. He's just... different."

For once, Takanori looked up from his sketchbook, scandalized. "Wait, he? Your dad is gay?"

I shrugged. "Bi, I guess. He's had a... male mistress? Boyfriend. He's had a boyfriend before when we were in junior high, but that didn't last long."

Takanori frowned. "Well, I don't remember that..." And then he was giggling. "I just can't imagine your dad getting topped by a man."

I snorted at that. "Please. Yuu has never topped anything in his entire life."

Takanori smiled. "That bad, huh? So his name is Yuu? Is he young? Handsome? Nice?"

I nodded. "He's older than us, but I don't think by very much." I rolled my eyes. "We could be siblings, I bet."

"Gross." Takanori scoffed, going back to his sketching. "Your dad isn't very subtle."

"No, he's never been..." I sat in his desk chair, sighing.

"So... other than being a guy, how is he different?" Takanori asked, curious about the mysterious Yuu.

But so was I, so I couldn't answer. "I don't know... he's pretty and all, but he also seems... genuine. At least, from what I can tell so far."

Takanori giggled. "Do you have a crush on him? On your father's boyfriend? That's pretty gross, Kouyou."

I gawked at him. "I do not, shut up." I groaned, tossing the CD case in his general area. 

He cackled, making kissy noises, while I tried my best to ignore him. 

I didn't have a crush on Yuu, but I did find myself wishing we had met under different circumstances. I wished he wasn't my father's lover. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback/kudos would be appreciated! I want to hear what people think! Thank you <3

It was inevitable that I would see Yuu again. Father had waited his usual time, which was sometimes a few weeks, sometimes a few months, before introducing his latest lover to me. Once that was done, that meant his lover would be at our house constantly. Sometimes they would even move in, that is until things didn't work anymore and they disappeared early in the morning, bags packed and without even a goodbye to me. They were in and out of my life the way people walked through revolving doors, easily, and as if it meant nothing. 

All of this my father had done intentionally. He was a charmer, a romantic. He liked to date them secretly for the first month or so, take them to restaurants, spas, and hotels. He would dazzle them with what he could offer and once he was certain they were sold on the idea of being his lover, he would sweep them into his personal life, and that meant me and our house. He called it his marketing technique. I knew this because he explained it to me once when he was drunk. He had called it a man-to-man talk. As if I wanted to copy him in everything he did, including his love life.

I was his flesh and blood, it was only natural that my father thought that way.

I arrived home after school on Friday to find the usual routine broken once again. There were two people waiting for me in the kitchen rather than just one. This time it was the housekeeper and Yuu. They hadn't noticed that I had arrived yet and Yuu was smiling at the older woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Ito. You've been a big help. It was nice meeting you." Yuu's short hair was tucked behind his ears while he wore one of the housekeeper's purple aprons. He was dressed more casually today, wearing a gray and form-fitting sweater and black skinny jeans. I liked the way it showed the shape of his body. It made him look more earth-bound, rather than some kind of Edo period fairy who was trapped in our century.

"Oh, hello Kouyou." His warm smile turned its focus away from the housekeeper to me. "How was school?"

"...Fine." I said, glancing over at Mrs. Ito who was packing up for the evening. She looked tired, ready to go home. I felt an odd little ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Don't leave me alone with him, I wanted to tell her, but she quickly said her goodbyes and I waved half-heartedly. The front door closed and then it was just us. "Is my father home?" I asked, giving in, sitting down at the breakfast bar to have my tea and snack.

"No, but he should be soon enough." Yuu smiled. "He knows I'm here. I promised I would make us dinner."

"You can cook?" I asked, surprised. Most of my father's past lovers had very... limited talents and they usually didn't involve practical things like cooking. Not that I could really cook, but still.

"I hope so." He smiled in an obviously joking manner, going back to his pasta. "I was also hoping that if I started early enough, we'd have time to talk." He said, looking at me over his shoulder.

I put down my tea. "Talk?" I asked, getting suspicious. There wasn't a lot of things that people wanted to 'talk' about with the children of their wealthy older lovers.

"Yeah, talk. If you don't mind." He smiled, turning again to face me. "You might be seeing a lot of me and I would like it if we got to know each other. And... when we met your father didn't exactly give you a chance to talk much."

So he had noticed. There was no way he couldn't, I suppose, but I was just so used to it that it hadn't even crossed my mind. Still, all of this was new to me. This 'wanting to get to know me' stuff. It was a first. "Yeah..." I nodded, picking my tea back up. "He's like that." I shrugged.

"He can be... a little forceful in his views." He nodded. "But it's alright to assert yourself once in a while. Right?" He offered me a gentle smile.

I looked down at my snack. I felt like a child around him. "You can try, but he'll suddenly become deaf when you speak up," I told him, wanting him to know that I wasn't incapable, that I had tried. I wasn't a child. I did want to be my own person, but my father seemed like this titan of an obstacle that stood in my way, so stubborn and difficult to knock down.

He smiled sadly and it reached his eyes, as though he wanted me to know that he understood. And I sort of believed him. "Well... he's not here now, so you can practice with me." He said, turning to strain the pasta, and then looking back at me. "Be assertive and honest, I won't interrupt." He promised. 

I thought about it and then agreed to play his game. "But you have to do the same," I said.

"Of course." He laughed softly, popping the pasta into the oven to keep it warm. His laughter, like his smile, was gentle and sincere. It was something that warmed your insides, like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold day. 

"How old are you?" I asked first.

"23." He answered easily. "And how old are you?"

"I'll be 18 in the summer," I answered back. "Don't you find it weird dating someone who has a kid that's only five years younger than you?"

He thought about it for a bit. "Not really. I'm more concerned about making the kid uncomfortable. I understand that I put everyone in an odd position by dating someone your father's age." He smiled sympathetically. 

"Is my father your first older lover?" I asked.

He just smiled. "It's my turn to ask a question." He said, preparing the pasta sauce, his thin body always turned slightly so he could look at me. "What would you like to study in university, Kouyou? And not what your father says. What do you want?"

What did I want? What an unfamiliar question for me. No one ever asked what I wanted. "I... I want to study music, probably not classical though. I would also like to try out for the university's soccer team."

His eyes seemed to shine at my confession. "Music and soccer? That's great!" He spoke with such enthusiasm. "Are you in clubs now?"

I nodded. "I still take music classes and I'm on the soccer team... but our season is coming to an end soon and then I'll be graduating."

"You know what?" He said, putting down his wooden spoon. "You should sign up for soccer in university and maybe even a music class or club."

"But father-"

He interrupted me, placing a finger to his lips, smiling at me like we were co-conspirators in a devilish scheme. "It'll be our secret. I won't tell your father, I promise." 

Something about his smile, his finger to his lips, his shining eyes and careful questions. Questions that he wanted my answers to, not my father's answers. The mix of it all warmed my insides and for once, I smiled in front of him. "I promise," I nodded. 

My reaction seemed to please him, a warm pink spreading across his face as his smile grew. I hadn't thought that he could look more beautiful, but he had proven me wrong.  

"Good!" He hummed, pleased, finishing up the pasta sauce, bringing the pasta out of the oven. Unlike the housekeeper, who moved in practiced and precise movements, Yuu moved with gentle elegance. It didn't look like he was cooking, it looked like he was dancing, steps careful, arms graceful.

I remembered it was my turn. "Why are you dating my father?"

He paused his dancing, gazing up at me. "I-"

"I'm home!" Came my father's voice as he stepped through the front door, peeking into the kitchen, obviously pleased to find Yuu there. He didn't even look at me.

I recoiled back into my shell.

"Welcome home." Yuu smiled big, going into my father's embrace, his pink face kissed by his lips. 

"And what is this?" My father smiled, gazing over Yuu's shoulder.

"Pasta Primavera." He said proudly. "You're just in time, we were about to start eating."

"Let's eat, then." He let go of Yuu so the three of us could go to the dining room to eat.

Father spoke of work and asked about Yuu's day, while Yuu listened intently and answered when prompted. He tried his best to incorporate me into the discussions, but father would always cut me short, answer for me, or change the topic. Yuu gave me a soft, almost sad look and I wanted to tell him not to bother, that it didn't matter. But I just shrugged and kept eating.

As soon I was done eating, I thanked Yuu for the meal and practically booked it upstairs.

~

I had been in my room for about three hours, pouring over my workbooks and study guides, exam season was approaching after all, when my iPod died. I cursed softly, knowing I wouldn't be able to focus without music guiding me. I got up from my desk chair, searching lazily for my charger when I heard something. I lifted my head, straining my ears. It was a sob, one that I could imagine slipping through Yuu's mouth. He was crying-?

I grit my teeth. What the fuck had my father done now? I remembered the third lover he had. They fought a lot and every time my father would say something that would push her over the edge and reduce her to tears. That was how she had left us too, her bags half-packed and tears never ceasing to roll down her cheeks as she walked out of the front door and never came back. 

I reached for the doorknob, expecting to see my father in a huff and Yuu in tears, maybe on the floor or maybe balancing against the wall. But then, something else caught my attention. Yuu's voice, neither calm nor gentle as it usually was, but rather breathy and shaky. "Takashima-!" He gasped, cried, moaned. He was moaning.

I could hear it now as I stepped out into the hall and pressed my cheek against the cool of wood of my father's bedroom door. I could hear it now, the creak of the bed, the panting, the sound of skin meeting skin.

"Takashima, we can't- your son..." A gasp.

"Never mind him, he can't hear us." A grunt. 

Old lecherous bastard.

Then, my father did something, maybe it was a certain kind of kiss or touch in a certain place, maybe a certain twist or thrust of his hips, but it made Yuu sob in pleasure.

I stepped away from the door, feeling a mixture of shame and anger. Anger because my father shouldn't be touching Yuu. He had no damn right to. Shame because of how my stomach knotted and how warm I suddenly felt at hearing Yuu's pleasure, hearing him moan, and sob, and worry about me. Think of me.

My father's lover shouldn't be arousing me, but he was.

This wasn't right.

I returned to my room, packed an overnight bag and slung it over my shoulder, grabbing my dead iPod and fully charged cell phone. I opened it as I made my way downstairs and put my shoes on. "Taka," I said as soon as he answered, even before he had the chance of saying hello. "I'm coming over."

~

I spent most of the weekend at Takanori's place, so it surprised me to see on Monday that he was not in school. By lunchtime I was getting worried, trying to remember if during the weekend he had shown any signs of coming down with any kind of sickness. Just as I was sitting alone, thinking about him, I got a text from him that read: "Come to my house now, it's an emergency!"

I stood up, abandoning my lunch, and found the nearest teacher and complained about an upset stomach, lied and told them I had thrown up. I was a reliable, straight A student, so they believed I was telling the truth. I skipped the trip to the nurse's office and went straight home. Or rather, walked the eight blocks to Takanori's house and was let in by the housekeeper. I bolted up the staircase, "Taka?" I called, opening his bedroom door.

He was standing in the middle of the room, wearing deep red skinny jeans and a band t-shirt he had purposely ripped up and which hung off of one shoulder. He looked fine, alive and well, while I panted slightly in the doorway, still wearing our navy blue school uniform.

"What do you think?" He asked, thin eyebrows knitted together. "I can't go out until I know for certain whether or not it looks good."

That's when I took the time to notice. He had dyed his hair. His 'emergency' was a beauty concern. 

"So that's why you weren't at school? You went to the hairdressers?" I asked.

He nodded, gazing into the mirror. "I felt like I needed a change. I can't believe I haven't thought about it until now. Black hair is so boring." He looked back at me, concerned. "Does it look good?"

His hair was now blonde and parted in the middle. On anyone else, that particular shade of yellow would have looked almost bland, like ramen noodles or bleached corn. On him, however, it looked perfect. It illuminated his face.

I should have been mad. I should have been annoyed that he had pulled me out of school for this. But instead, I let myself sit on the floor and start to laugh.

"What-? Is it that bad?" He worried.

I shook my head, still laughing. "No..." I managed to stop, although this whole ridiculous situation still amused me, so my smile was still present. "No, you look amazing. It suits you."

He blushed a little and then smiled, satisfied. "Good." He looked back in his mirror.

I just kept sitting on his floor, smiling. I thought of Yuu, I couldn't help it. But I also thought of Takanori and how different the two of them were. 

I wanted to say something, an idea I had. But I didn't.

I just sat on the floor smiling. 


End file.
